


We Are Beautifully Broken (But Our Pieces Make a Whole)

by OpaqueXApathy



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amy Dyer because Amy has to be in everything, Amy is epic, Awkward Romance, Chronic Illness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I mean 'In The Flesh', Kieren is incredible, M/M, Physical Disability, References to Drugs, Simon is beautifully broken, These tags are worse than my titles, Titles again UGH, graphic depictions of past torture (some not much), in the feels, past references to suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:31:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpaqueXApathy/pseuds/OpaqueXApathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the whole fiasco with the Second Rising, Kieren makes a move to get away from it all and from Roarton. He finds a PDS designated job in a PDS forgiving town. He meets Amy, a girl hospitalized for psychological reasons and befriends her anyway. Because though Amy is different, he doesn't think she's crazy. And it's there, in the run down hospital that used to be a major medical facility, that he finds Simon. A broken, intriguing man he can't help but find beautiful. To his surprise - the feeling is very mutual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found the courage to give my own idea a go! Really this was the result of watching too many romance dramas all in one shot but I rapidly fell in love with the idea. I adore this pairing. I really do. I couldn't help but be intrigued by the 'what ifs'. What if Kieren hadn't met Simon in Roarton? What if Simon had never been the 12th disciple to a crazy cult of zombies? And what if those experiments had done more to him than he'd seemed to be very lucky to get away with in the first place? Annnd I added Amy because AMY. Her epicness demands that she be involved in some way in everything In The Feels I ever right. Comments and kudos are adored and loved! <3 cross posting is allowed just be sure to credit. I'd seriously be flattered. Also, I totally blame Bill Nighy for a certain doctor involved in this story.

The day started off like any other. Same routine, same schedule, same beginning and Kieren was assuming it would have the same end. Nothing really changed despite the hospital he worked at being situated on the outskirts of a major city. He’d moved here to get a little independence after the whole ‘Second Rising’ fiasco and probably just to convince himself that he could. That there was more than Roarton and to escape the oppressive hostility towards PDS sufferers. 

A hostility he wasn’t expecting to disappear entirely just by moving but he’d hoped he’d at least he’d see less of it. 

Surprisingly the small town he’d settled in only minutes away from Leeds was more tolerant of PDS than he’d ever expected. He’d done his research but he wasn’t exactly sure he could buy into anything he’d read online. Roarton had probably made him a raging paranoid but at this point he’d felt that very much justified. 

And it was even better - or worse - in most areas of the bigger cities. Although he had been warned by a PDS counselor of certain areas he’d best avoid and that was fine by Kieren. Really he had more space and access than he’d ever had before - even in this small village - and it was still a little overwhelming. Small as it was it was still three times the size of Roarton.

Getting a job had helped. He didn’t need to eat and the neurotriptyline was free but he still had to pay for electricity. He was assuming he didn’t even really need heat. All the same though the bills were pretty low and he didn’t need to work much. Mostly he did it now for art supplies and while he was considering going back to school he wasn’t sure he felt entirely ready. It was enough to know that the school was there, a great one just a short drive away and an easy trip back and forth from his apartment. It was more than enough to know that it was there when and if he decided he’d gathered up enough courage to enroll again. Mostly he now just worked as many hours as he did to keep himself preoccupied.

Kieren had gotten a job through a PDS placement service. The same that had provided a counselor, secured him a new doctor, and a renewed prescription of neurotriptyline. The job on the surface had seemed at first much like the horrid ‘Give Back’ program. Tasks no one else wanted, handed down to PDS sufferers because they were at the bottom of everything. Menial even dirty tasks pushed down to the lowest level of hired help. Namely those with PDS. But there was actually a hierarchy, a system to this job that was entirely lacking in the Give Back program. People were more tolerant, weren’t nearly so mean, and there was chance of advancement.

Kieren’s new position, which he’d just started last week, was much like a low level nurse. Actually he was doing much of the same duties as a nurse just under their direction and with doctor’s supervision. He and others like him worked with the PDS patients which while he agreed that it made patients more comfortable if they were treated by someone who also had PDS... It also seemed to make the staff much more comfortable as well. He couldn’t really blame them but sometimes he really felt under qualified.

He always came to work early to catch up with a patient he probably shouldn’t be speaking too candidly with. More than that he probably shouldn’t consider himself as close to her as he was or as good of a friend but he really couldn’t help it. Amy was absolutely everything. Easily he could call her his best friend, they always found time to talk and he visited her whenever he could. And sometimes he really did wonder what had brought her to the psychiatric ward in the first place. Amy was eccentric there was no getting around that but he wasn’t sure crazy was a word for it. More like a bright ball of sunshine and happiness and excitement that didn’t seem to like to be contained. Which made her being here and willingly staying in the psyche ward even more confusing.

If he wasn’t gay himself there was no question that he would love her. Her laughter was contagious and beautiful and she always found humor in everything. She didn’t seem bothered by her appearance and ran around without a care. As if she was the most normal girl in the world and that she had something special to share with everyone. And really she seemed too. Amy was special and sometimes Kieren envied how she could be so carefree and happy despite their mutual conditions.

His name came from down the hall, around the corner, like a playful song. Kieren found himself smiling without even seeing her face first.

“I can’t stay long. I’m nearly late for work.”

Amy jumped from around the corner, hands resting on the crappy lime green molding. “Did you... burn your breakfast this morning?”

“No.” Kieren breathed a laugh.

Amy’s eyes found his, her grin just as contagious as her happy personality. It was impossible not to like Amy. She simply didn’t let you hate her.

“Did your tea go cold?”

“No.”

“Mmm I bet the heat went out sometime last night and you were so cold this morning that you spilled your breakfast all over yourself and ended up being late for work.”

Kieren closed his eyes for a moment as he laughed, enjoying the simple feeling of actually being happy for the moment before settling his gaze back upon her. “How did you guess?”

Amy smiled like she’d won something, letting go of the wall and stepping further into the hallway. “Maybe I have psychic powers like Charlie down the hall says he has.”

“Charlie also believes he’s our lord and savior Jesus Christ.” 

Kieren resumed his pace but not too quickly. Often he’d take a shortcut through the psyche ward even if he was a bit late just to see Amy on the way through. Unfortunately this was one of those days. He usually liked to stay awhile and talk or just hang out. While none of what she’d said had happened - namely because more than a few of those weren’t possible and she knew it too - he hadn’t wanted to say out loud the obvious reason of why he’d overslept. And Amy didn’t ask. He was relieved because while the nightmares didn’t come as frequently anymore he was convinced they’d never entirely go away. And that wasn’t something he liked to talk about.

“Maybe he is. I mean you never know. If Jesus did come back wouldn’t he be a zombie?”

“Let’s not go there.” Kieren said, shooting her a warning look even if she was joking. Especially if she was joking. He’d had more than enough of the ULA and PDS oppression and general hate. It brought up all the reasons he had left his home town in the first place and he certainly didn’t want to remember any of that.

“The zombie part or the Jesus part?”

“You know where.” Kieren said, turning his back to the security doors and pushing them open after running his badge through. Better to check in here. Anything to spend more time with Amy.

“Morning Walker.” the security guard greeted him, mostly with a bemused smile at Amy as she waved at him from the other side of the bulletproof glass with hand motions so rapid they were nearly blurry.

“Morning John.” Kieren acknowledged, typing his pass code into the computer system and then running his badge through that too. The hospital had back in it’s time been one of the most modern and advanced hospital on this side of the country. Now everything seemed doomed to be trapped in the 80s and no one was making any moves to downgrade the ridiculous outdated security. It was just a bit much. And old. Really old.

As he completed the small morning procedure - relieved to see he was just in time to avoid being officially late - Amy danced on the other side of the bulletproof glass. And when he lifted his head and straightened she’d gotten tired of that and resorted to some sort of charades instead. John, a young human security guard who refreshingly treated PDS sufferers just like he treated everyone else, gave her a hopeless gesture of his hands and Amy rolled her eyes in a gesture of long suffering.

“I was never good at that game.” he said, watching her impassively with a small smile as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips.

Kieren left the room and shut it firmly behind him, listening to the ancient lock snap just in response.

“I’ll see you later yeah?” Amy asked as he headed for a double set of doors that led into the rest of the hospital.

“After work.” Kieren promised her and turned at last, letting the doors fall closed behind him.

It wasn’t nearly a second after they’d shut that he was being flagged down by Lora, a short blonde nurse who’d trained him in the first place upon receiving his new assignment as ‘PDS Patient Care Technician’. His mom and dad and been proud of him, there was that, and it did feel good to have a respectable job even if it was pretty much a fake one. He only treated those with PDS. He hadn’t even needed any serious training or schooling to get the job and he couldn’t treat those without PDS because that schooling was needed. Like for blood work - which they didn’t need. For CPR which also wasn’t needed. There really wasn’t anything technical about his job at all.

“Kieren! I was hoping you’d get in earlier but-” she pushed a clipboard his way. “New patient. Room 727 in the PDS Ward. He requires a bit more care than the others so the PDS physician will be talking to you shortly. He wants you to meet him in his office straight away.”

Kieren blinked in surprise, glancing down at the clipboard. There was not a lot of information on it - just registration information and the rest deceptively blank. But there was one name. No last name, only a first.

Simon.

“Thanks Lora.” he said, a bit distractedly, giving her a smile and heading for the large main staircase that led to the second floor that was situated just off of the waiting room and main desk where he checked in every morning. 

He’d realized working in a hospital might imply caring for others when he’d applied for the job and already he had. Mostly it had been cleaning work. Taking care of rooms before and after PDS patients left, cleaning the PDS ward, changing beds and cleaning equipment and getting supplies. That’s all it really had been. Cleaning. Those with PDS didn’t use a bathroom, didn’t eat, didn’t need equipment to keep track of nonexistent vitals. What patients did come in often came for surgeries to fix or maintain previous injuries they’d suffered during the Rising. And they never stayed long. They had no need too. There wasn’t a healing process anymore. It was just preventing further injury or the deterioration of old wounds. He couldn’t imagine what care this man Simon could need beyond what he’d already been doing.

Dr. Marcus Renold had been a physician at the hospital before his subsequent death and resurrection during the Rising and he wasn’t above pointing that out nearly every day or every conversation Kieren had with him. Or rather complaining it about it or his lack of respect since coming back from the dead which he didn’t look too fondly on either. Really there wasn’t a lot the man was fond of. And he didn’t hesitate giving people a ready list of those either.

Still Kieren liked the man. Though it was hard to believe there was anything or anybody Dr. Renold liked - it was refreshing to meet someone so blunt who had PDS. He didn’t wear cover up, he didn’t bother to try. And if anyone made a remark towards his condition he would give them a slow blink, staring at them like they were slow in the head. Or he’d have a ready, biting quip available about how it must have taken an incredible amount of intellect for them to guess.

Dr. Renold didn’t like when anyone knocked, most days, so Kieren hazard this was one of those days he’d prefer he just walked in. His office was mostly deserted. At one time the former director of the hospital had had a moderate waiting room and a secretary’s desk outside his own moderately sized office. Now the place was collecting dust. No one sat in the chairs, there was no secretary to be had, and much of the place looked like it hadn’t been tended too in awhile. And it’s sole occupant didn’t seem to care.

“Dr. Renold?” Kieren asked politely as he stepped into the office within the first, desolate empty room.

The man barely glanced up at him from where he was working on paper work, glasses sitting low on his nose, hands shifting restlessly between files. “Kieren. Sarah send you up?”

“Lora.” he corrected.

“Right.” Renold sat up at last, fixing him an impassive look. “Come in. Shut the door. No sense in having anyone overhear our conversation.”

Kieren barely repressed a smile at the last, dry remark. Delivered with the usual deadpan stare Renold was so good at. A gaze that made anyone without PDS squirm and well honestly those with too. Kieren still hadn’t completely figured how not too but he was working on it. Every day he seemed to squirm less, Renold seemed more pleased with him.

“Now.” Renold said as Kieren shut the door and took a seat in front of his desk. “Simon. Your new patient.”

“My new patient?” Kieren couldn’t help but ask.

Again there was that stare. That ‘are you stupid’ look that Renold was also quite good at. Kieren wasn’t taking offense to it though at this point. It seemed to be a look for everyone regardless of their intelligence level, measure of person, or position in society. From what he’d heard in whispered conversations Renold was brilliant. So brilliant that he’d received a number of accolades and work as a physician and scientist before his death. He just somehow didn’t blame the man for being irritated with everyone else. Actually Kieren sympathized that with that amount of intelligence there had to come a price at feeling isolated, apart from everyone else. And yes as if he was ahead of everyone else and had to wait for the world to catch up.

“I like you Kieren.” Renold said at last. “You have an open, expressive personality behind all that shyness and insecurity.”

And there was that too. Dr. Renold was also freakishly observant.

“You’ve done good work here.” he said, adding already to the shocking amount of compliments he was giving. An unprecedented amount. “And I think you could do good work with Simon.”

“I appreciate your confidence-”

“Good because you’ll need it.” Dr. Renold took off his glasses and reached for the computer mouse, waking up the computer with a twitch of it. “Simon was the very first to respond to neurotriptyline.”

And that shocking statement just led without preamble into another.

“He also volunteered, rather generously, for experimentation that was nothing short of needless and time wasting. I’m quite certain he regrets that generosity now.”

Dr. Renold took the computer monitor in his hands and turned it towards Kieren, Kieren barely able to keep himself from physically reeling at what he saw on the computer screen. If he could vomit, and he was sure he could, he probably would have. Maybe it was the shock of seeing the picture so suddenly. Maybe that had been Dr. Renold’s point. To scare him into a complete shock so complete he couldn’t throw up. Or faint. At least not right away because Kieren was struggling to even take in the image in front of him.

A man, broad shouldered and lean muscled, was laying face down on a table - his arms and hands strapped to a cross looking like contraption, pale skin completely exposed, everywhere, a thin sheet barely keeping him covered from the waist down. And... And that was where Kieren stopped being able to process what he was seeing. His back was cut open along the entire length of his spine darkened by black blood, revealing the incredibly vulnerable length of bone within. All of it. His entire spine, the gory open line held open by clamps and metal devices that were as obscenely gory as everything else.

“The experiments permanently damaged his spine and caused chemical imbalances that are irreversible. The so called doctors that experimented on him had the skill of children playing Operation with croquet mallets. Do you like croquet Kieren?”

Kieren wanted to laugh at the pure absurdity of the ill placed question but that was probably the point. He could feel the man staring at him again and realized he was gripping the desk with a white knuckled grip - wrenching his hand away and settling it awkwardly in his lap as he swallowed around his considerable nausea. “Never played it.”

“It’s horrible.” Renold said, clicking away from the picture and turning the monitor away.

“Simon suffers from occasional episodes of periodic paralysis. The paralysis varies in severity but encompasses his entire left side and everything below his waist in varying degrees. The episodes last hours. Sometimes days. I believe they could even last months. It was why he was transferred here.”

Kieren realized he was being stared at again and pulled his eyes away from where the computer monitor had previously been facing, managing to meet Dr. Renold’s eyes in what he was sure was a very bewildered expression.

“His position needs to be changed several times a day to prevent bed sores. Which in his condition would become permanent. He also needs to be bathed once a day. When he begins to regain mobility he will need physical therapy to make sure his progress doesn’t stagnate. You will be assisted with this of course and with lifting him if needed but you shouldn’t have much trouble.”

“Right.” Kieren managed.

Dr. Renold passed him over a text book. “Read pages seventy two through two hundred and twelve. It should familiarize you with everything you need to know. I’ll be questioning him as to any fluctuations of symptoms but that information will come primarily from you. Understandably he has a certain anxiety around medical personnel. Which makes you so important Kieren.”

“Me?” Kieren asked, looking up from the book.

“Yes.” Renold turned in his chair and fixed him with a look again. “You don’t hold yourself like a nurse or a doctor or any kind of medical personnel in the slightest. You’re easy to trust. Too many caring for him at this point would only be anxiety inducing and unneeded stress. Which could cause a worsening of his episode or trigger another in extreme circumstances. It is understandable his anxiety towards this hospital and everyone in it is extreme is it not?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.” Kieren’s eyes flickered to the computer and he winced. Even though the screen was black again he could very clearly remember the picture that had been there before.

“Are you up to the task Kieren?”

Kieren felt something settle within him. As he took his eyes away from the screen he felt suddenly a bit calmer. More resolute. The very fact that Dr. Renold was entrusting him with his alone made him feel more confident. But it was more than that. He felt determined. Like seeing Simon’s wounds made his own ache painfully in sympathy. Different circumstances, certainly, but his own sometimes felt as open as the ones on the screen.

He understood the feeling of being broken.

Kieren met the doctor’s pale, white eyes levelly with his own inhuman shade of green’s and yellows. “Yes.”

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The PDS Ward was quiet this morning. They hadn’t had a lot of patients recently, not after the little girl who’d come in last night with a broken bone. Kieren didn’t know what had been more jarring. Seeing her leg broken and dangling off the end of the table or to see her so completely quiet about it. Any other ten year old would have been understandably screaming but she more or less just looked a bit scared. Obviously in no pain. The little girl would be just that her entire life. Ten forever.

She’d be discharged this afternoon. Which left him with a total of two patients in the massive wing that had enough rooms to hold a hundred. It was separate from the rest of the hospital though they rarely got any human patients either. But there were busy days and then there were quiet days. Sometimes the quiet stretched on for awhile and this had been a very quiet week. He supposed he should be thankful for that but sometimes he worried about his job.

Room 727 had a window view and was larger than the others. They could spare it seeing as his new patient was alone in the hallway, really in this entire section. It was a bit eerie to see the nurses’ stations empty - completely unneeded and gathering dust, computers dark and long since probably ceased to function.

Kieren hadn’t been to this side of the ward before but it was all the same in every part of it.

He had a cart with him, a nurse showing him how to prepare it with the ordered sponge bath which would be a new routine every morning. Kieren thought it was a bit much for just meeting the man, Simon, but he supposed there wasn’t room for that. He was here to be cared for and Kieren had been tasked with doing the caring. Even though really he felt completely out of his depth. Growing up he had never expected to be in this position - it had never occurred to him. He hadn’t even played doctor as a kid. And now here he was, about to give a sponge bath to a full grown man.

But his parents had been so proud. He knew they missed him. But word of his job at the hospital had made them both so happy that he made himself stay. It wasn’t horrible. There was Amy, there was having a purpose and something to do and the whole job gave him a sense of normalcy he didn’t want to let go of. Like a security blanket.

Resting his hand on the door of room 727 he paused and took a moment, closing his eyes and taking a quick breath in. “You can do this. I can do this.” he murmured. “No big deal. Right? Right.”

Decisively he pushed the door open, finding Simon in the room and giving him a smile. Really just giving the general direction of the bed an automatic, friendly smile. Because as nervous as he was it took a split second for him to really look. And boy he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to look upon the handsome, striking stranger waiting for him. Or rather just laying there. Actually looking a bit despondent.

Kieren actually felt flustered for a moment. He hadn’t seen his face in the picture, he had no idea he’d be... Well this attractive. And he wanted to chide himself for it but he really couldn’t. While he was here to do a job and he wouldn’t cross any inappropriate boundaries, Dr. Renold was pretty much right about him. He didn’t come across as a nurse or a doctor or medical professional probably because he didn’t feel like one. At times yes but he didn’t find it any kind of calling. So this attraction felt probably far less blasphemous than anyone else would find it. Shocking most certainly but not that.

“Good morning, Simon. My name is Kieren and I’m going to be your caretaker for today.” he pulled the cart in behind him, watching as the young man in the bed in turn watched him. And Kieren swallowed heavily. Apparently he’d been noticed too.

The phrase was something he said to everyone. He’d forgot to add ‘for as long as you’re here’ because Dr. Renold had seemingly made it clear that he would be doing just that - but now, momentarily, words failed him.

Simon had striking eyes. Different than his own they were pale in color, an off white which was only made all the more striking by his pale skin. Appropriately corpse like, they all were, but it was so... Smooth. Unblemished. Enviably so. No veins, so cracks. Just smooth, flawless skin. If Kieren looked that good he might not find it so hard to look in a mirror or reflective surface every morning he thought to himself a bit ruefully. But still. He was a bit awestruck.

Simon’s eyes found his and Kieren drew in a bit of a breath, remembering the cart. Remembering not to trip over himself. Remembering not to stare. Somehow.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Kieren asked into the silence because Simon really wasn’t picking up a conversation. Noticeably he could barely move his head and keeping this in mind, the complete unnatural stillness of his left arm, he stayed within sight. Easy to do considering Simon’s bed was reclined up and he was mostly sitting, head held up by a bracing pillow.

“Fine. I suppose.” Simon said, his voice sounding a bit unused to being used. His mouth also sounded dry, a poor side effect of PDS that could really cause bad things to happen to the rest of it. Permanent cracks, chapped lips that never moistened again. Kieren dealt with a bit of the chapped lips part and while science was struggling to seemingly keep them from falling apart, little was being done in the way of it. Normal run of the mill chap stick did help.

“Here.” Kieren said, reaching for the box of gloves on the wall, remembering the pretty useless procedure. They couldn’t exactly carry diseases - their blood moved as slow as sludge and they were essentially dead anyway. But it was hospital protocol he still had to obey. “Sometimes if you go without talking your mouth can get a bit dry.”

He got a glass of water from the sink, a kidney bowl from below it in a cupboard, and a towel from off the cart. There were plenty and he wasn’t so sure he was going to go through them all bathing Simon.

“Take a sip of this.” he said, laying the towel across his palm and holding it beneath his chin and he put the cup up to his lips. “And then I’ll have you spit it out. Trust me it helps.”

Simon wasn’t wary about watching him. It was almost as if he was sizing him up. But then there it was, a sudden flash of insecurity that had him averting his gaze as soon as he spit out what little water he had taken from the cup into the bowel Kieren was holding under his chin. Kieren considered it was something, taking away the cup and moving to set it aside and dispose of the water in the bowl as well. In the mirror above the sink though Kieren caught Simon seemingly enjoying the taste, eyes slipping closed and his expression that of satisfied pleasure if only for a second - while Kieren had his back turned.

Kieren could really relate. Sometimes if he dared he would often take a sip of something, enjoy the flavor, and then get rid of it before his body did it forcefully.

Realizing he might be staring, Kieren hastily put everything away. Perhaps a bit too hastily, the plastic cup slipping from his slightly whetted gloves and clattering dully into the sink. At least it wasn’t a loud noise. All the same in the silence of the room it wasn’t unnoticeable.

“Sorry about that.” Kieren said, taking off his gloves and relieved at least he couldn’t blush.

“Didn’t bother me none.”

Irish. Kieren heard it then. Simon was Irish.

“You ready for your bath?” Kieren asked, turning back to the man in the bed and to his cart.

Simon gave it a somewhat nervous look.

“I realize we just met.” Kieren agreed sympathetically, moving to put the bed rail down with a press of his foot on a lever and his hands on the rail, hoping to distract him. “But it won’t take long.”

Even though he really didn’t know if that was true or not considering this was the first time he’d be doing this. The nurses’ direction earlier seemed suddenly inadequate. He’d been trained before to give a sponge bath. On a dummy. But he’d never had to use that knowledge on a patient before.

He didn’t see Simon’s somewhat amused expression, probably ascertaining his lack of experience or his nerves - either way. But he heard it in his tone when he spoke up a moment later. “First time?”

Kieren gave him a look, trying to figure out if he was being teased, and nearly smiled. It was goodnatured if he was - probably trying to break a bit of the unease and that was appreciated. It really was.

Bolstered, Kieren started to remove Simon’s blankets and suddenly he realized there were quite a bit of them. He probably had three or so layers. Sometimes PDS patients forgot they were even there depending on their measure of feeling left. Some had enough to almost forget they were dead but most others were made very much aware of it by their rather dull sense of touch and feeling in comparison. Kieren felt like he rested somewhere in the middle. And he was guessing Simon was one of those who could actually feel quite a lot.

“Do you get cold?” he found himself asking.

“Not really.” Simon said, watching him take the blankets away. “I guess I just like them.”

“I promise I’ll give them back.” Kieren finished rolling the blankets to one side and then reached for some towels, grabbing a few considering Simon’s previous statement. He draped them over his lap and it was that simple act that seemed to solidify he was about to undress someone for the first time. It was professional, he told himself that, and it was. But finding the man attractive earlier didn’t exactly help the situation.

Simon was getting more tense now but Kieren felt it had nothing to do with him. “Easy.” he murmured. “The water is warm. So are most of the towels. And there’s a blanket warmer just down the hall.” as he spoke he reached for the cart and pulled it closer, keeping his tone soft. “I promise I’ll change out your blankets for warm ones as soon as I’m finished.”

Kieren’s eyes flickered to Simon. While the man could barely move, the hand that could was already fisted in the sheets and he didn’t think Simon was aware of that. “Simon?” he waited until tentative white eyes met his own. “I’m not going to hurt you. Nothing I will ever do will hurt you.”

Slowly, just a bit and then more at first, Simon’s hand relaxed in the blankets and Kieren gave him a smile. “You’re okay.”

Simon relaxed further and Kieren sympathized that he must feel extraordinarily vulnerable even his private areas were already covered.

“Have you ever been bathed before?” Kieren asked, reached up to unbutton his hospital gown.

“Yes.”

The top came off easy enough, Simon easily helping him with the arm that he could move. Taking care not to pull the garment over stitches and... exposed spine, Kieren carefully took the gown off over his head or at least part of it, gently holding his wrist and arm as he pulled it off the rest of the way, down the other side. He made sure Simon was adjusted, comfortable, and neck supported before turning his attention to his pants. “Now for this part.” he said, figuring a warning would be nice even if Simon was watching his every move.

Hooking his fingers in the elastic of the hospital pants, as thin as the down top, Kieren pulled them down around his hips from under the towel and made easy work removing them. It was far easier than the shirt and really the easy part was over. There was no hospital underwear, it was a wonder Simon had had pants and now the only thing covering him from Kieren’s eyes was the towel over his lap. Though Kieren had no intention of removing it completely there was no getting around that area entirely. It was reassuring though that unlike Kieren this apparently wasn’t Simon’s first time with this.

“Have you had this condition all your life?” Kieren asked, bringing the cart as close as he could and testing the water with his hand just to make sure it hadn’t cooled off.

“No.” Simon said and that was the only, short answer he got, tinged with nerves Kieren well and understood. But somehow, knowing he was nervous, just made him feel a bit calmer.

“Here we go.” Kieren said softly, whether strictly to Simon or to himself as well he wasn’t exactly sure. But he followed his training. Starting with Simon’s neck and chest he kept the motions of the cloth against his skin gentle, with firm pressure, catching excess water with a ready towel in his other hand. To keep him from becoming chilled he dried him as he went, pressing the towel gently to his skin when he was finished with a certain area.

He took care with the arm that Simon couldn’t move, relinquishing his towel and squeezing excess water out of the cloth so that he had a hand free to hold it. And somewhere in the stillness of the room and the quietness that had fallen between them, comfortable and shockingly not awkward in the slightest, Kieren was almost lulled as he watched the cloth smooth slow, easy strokes over pale skin. In the sunlight coming in from the only large window it almost seemed to bathe his skin in an effervescent, warm glow.

He suddenly felt closer to this practical stranger in front of him than with anyone else before. But he was too lulled at the moment to be startled by the feeling. He felt... Open. And it didn’t feel bad. Not hardly.

The moment was a bit broken when he had to flatten the cloth out over Simon’s chest and relinquish his gentle grasp of his arm. And now he just felt strangely overwhelmed in a subdued sort of way. This was as much as he’d ever touched another man in his entire life. Anyone for that matter. It felt like throwing a stone into a once untouched pond, sending emotional ripples scattering in all sorts of confusing directions. It didn’t help at all that Simon seemed to be as openly receiving and returning whatever was happening between them just as much as he was without much of an apparent filter.

The water started to get cold when he finished with his stomach, as lightly muscled as the rest of him. Simon was fit. Not exactly muscular but gracefully toned. His broad chest and shoulders easily made up the difference.

Kieren got some fresh, warmer water, leaving him covered with a blanket until he returned.

Washing the other arm was an experience much different than the previous arm, a different experience. Like his neck and chest this skin was much more responsive even if Simon was scarcely moving a muscle, a little tense under his hands whereas before he’d actually been pretty relaxed. Kieren was starting to learn where the paralysis started and ended without realizing it himself. It was almost entirely too subtle to miss.

“Do you have these episodes often?” he asked.

“Sometimes.” Simon said softly into the previous quiet, interrupted by Kieren.

Kieren was gently pulling back the towel and washing a hip when Simon spoke again. “Sometimes they don’t come back for days.”

Kieren shifted a glance up at him and continued what he was doing, diligently and with gentle care. He avoid his private areas for now, letting him have that respite or really maybe both of them. The thought was washing that particular area was giving him a bad case of the nerves. And he hadn’t even done Simon’s back yet.

How on earth was he going to get through this every single morning until Simon recovered?

When he finished with his legs there was no avoiding it any longer and he forced down his nerves. “I’m going to wash between your legs now.” he announced per protocol, “All right?”

Simon nodded as much as he could, which wasn’t much, his eyes flickering to him and away.

Kieren tightened his jaw, braced himself, but didn’t rush past it. He didn’t want it to be an abrupt, awkward experience for either of them although he suspected awkward was just going to happen a bit in some degree no matter what. And he really didn’t know how nurses did this for a living.

It was a surreal experience that he compartmentalized swiftly as part of his job and that was promptly that. He did what he was trained to do and let his mind dizzily dance over any details. Overall it was an overwhelming experience that was truly just beginning.

As promised he gave him warmer blankets, thinking it would calm him while he did the hardest part yet. A part Kieren was drowning in anxiety over. What if Dr. Renold was wrong about him? What if his confidence was misplaced? What if he couldn’t handle the sight of Simon’s back? What if he turned away? Desperately he didn’t want to hurt Simon like that who really, desperately didn’t need to be anymore than he already had been.

“All right let’s position you onto your side now. Plenty of pillows for you to rest again while I finish this up.” Kieren said, taking Simon’s left hand carefully in his and positioning his arm over his chest. “Ready?” he asked and Simon gave a nod, but then just as suddenly belied that with a somewhat breathless, anxiety ridden ‘no’.

Kieren immediately paused, holding Simon wear he was, half turned onto his right side.

“I’m not going to hurt you Simon.” he reassured him in a tone he pitched to be soothing, holding his breath awaiting his reaction, if that would ease anxiety. If it had been the right thing to say.

Obviously it had or it was enough because Simon gave another slight nod.

Kieren carefully positioned him onto his ride side, the only side that couldn’t currently somewhat support the rest of his body, resting him against pillows so it could do the rest of the supporting that his body couldn’t. He let his limp hand and arm rest over the pillows, making sure Simon was comfortable and his head supported before he withdrew just a bit, resting a hand on his hip. “You okay?”

Simon didn’t say anything at first and Kieren held his breath, giving him a worried glance.

“Everything’s okay Simon.” he assured him. “I’m right here. Right with you. I won’t push. Take all the time you need.”

“Maybe _you_ should.”

Kieren wasn’t offended by the somewhat sharp, anxiety ridden reply. Because that’s exactly where it was coming from. Anxiety and fear and honestly... Kieren was sharing some of those feelings right now.

“If I have too.” Kieren said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon relaxed under his hand a bit and Kieren tucked the blankets around his shoulders, taking that as a sign if any that he could continue.

Taking a breath and steadying himself, Kieren then pulled up the blankets and doubled them over the rest of Simon’s body, revealing the sickening expanse that was the gaping wound down the length of Simon’s spine - the blackened stitches giving way to a wound that would never close, permanently blackened around the white bone by blood.

For a moment, he felt dizzy. And Kieren let the feeling roll over him in a wave and then pass before he opened his eyes, focusing them on the back of Simon’s head determinedly. Backing down just wasn’t an option. Leaving Simon this exposed and vulnerable wasn’t an option either and he certainly wasn’t calling someone else in to finish something he’d started, that he’d accepted would happen since the beginning of being assigned as this man’s caretaker.

Simon’s paralyzed left half was completely relaxed under his hand but he suspected that the rest of him was anything but. Kieren drew in a breath, reaching for the basin of water and a cloth. “Ready now Simon?”

“Yeah.” Simon said and it was his somewhat strained reply that prompted Kieren to start talking. And he just started and didn’t really stop. Soft words, sentences of reassurance and praise, reminding him that he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Words of what he was doing, when he was about to touch and easing him through any startled feelings his unseen touch provoked.

He cleaned around the stitches, in-between them where he could, over the expanse of Simon’s shoulders - easing away from the angry looking wound and working his way back again to keep from entirely overwhelming him. Kieren made sure the water stayed warm, even once adding in scalding hot water to the cooling basin of water from the room so as to avoid leaving Simon entirely.

Simon’s lower back was the absolute worst without question, where the stitches could no longer hold together damaged flesh and Kieren gave the area all the care he would the most fragile of glass. He felt like he probably should have put gloves on, the gaping wound just seemed to demand it, but he figured that could easily be the worst idea in the world and ignored the idea. Not only that but their wounds didn’t become infected. Kieren refused to put Simon through the unnecessary trauma.

He finished the bath with a fourth and final washcloth, washing the back of his legs, pulling blankets back over Simon’s body wherever he could and over whatever areas he was finished with. He washed his buttocks last, easier than the front that was for certain but maybe it was because he’d already acclimated himself to the unfamiliarity of touching another body that wasn’t his own.

Dressing him in a fresh gown and pants, Kieren brought back warm blankets just as he’d promised, quick to give Simon a smile or two when his insecurities seemed to reassert themselves. He _looked_ exhausted. As if the bath alone had taken what little strength his body had leeched from him and so Kieren made the rest of the morning routine as quick and easy as he could, helping as much as he could. He helped him brush his teeth but by the time that was done with he had to brush his hair himself. Simon absolutely no longer had the strength to do anything but doze under his hands as Kieren brushed his hair, washed and dried his face, and then tucked the blankets around him - adjusting pillows to make sure Simon was well and supported where his body couldn’t be.

Washing his hair would be a two person job that would happen every few days, Kieren couldn’t do that himself but Simon could help with that if he regained some strength to do so. Hopefully within a few days.

“Do you need anything?” Kieren asked, resting his hands on Simon’s arm, catching Simon’s own heavy lidded gaze with his own.

“No.”

“Get some rest then.” Kieren smiled, giving Simon’s hand a squeeze, and easing the call button into it - the one he could use. “If you need anything, the call button is right here. I’ll be back to check in on you shortly.”

Kieren took the cart with him into the hall and it only when the door fell quietly shut, separating him from Simon, that he allowed himself to _actually_ breathe. Leaning heavily against the wall beside the door Kieren closed his eyes for a second and tried to overcome how suddenly overwhelmed he felt. It practically made him lightheaded. He wasn’t sure what it was entirely, probably everything that had just happened, but he was struggling to cope with his own reactions to the man. And Simon’s reactions to _him_. That was probably the most shocking of all. Is how receptive and how much Simon seemed to return the occasional look which for Kieren was more than just a little startling.

And above everything else there was his back. He supposed it would get easier but really how could it? This was going to be a routine done every morning until Simon got better. Whenever that could be.

Kieren wasn’t so sure he was going to survive all this.

 

TBC


End file.
